


Full House

by naasad



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Autistic!Barry Allen, Autistic!Tim Drake, Barry is a bad influence, Bruce is not a good dad, Gen, Justice League meets the BatKids, autistic characters, by which I mean he's a very good influence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-13 08:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13566435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: Barry meets the BatKids.





	1. Damian

They were all staying at the Lakehouse while the Hall was being built. Bruce had cited vague reasons along the lines of convenience or whatever, while Alfred had leaned close and quietly informed them that Master Wayne missed having a full house.

Barry had frowned at that because it implied that Bruce had once had a full house, but he didn’t quite know what to do with that information, so he filed it away in the farthest recesses of his mind in case it came up later.

Later happened to be now.

Now, when there’s a tiny ninja in Barry’s room – in Barry’s bed – holding a knife to Barry’s throat.

“Father!” the little assassin screeches at the top of his lungs, and wow, kids were loud.

Barry clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut because hello bad sensory input, and let’s not have a meltdown after getting through a very exhausting day without one.

Somewhere in the Lakehouse, he can hear a clatter and a crash, and he opens his eyes just in time to see Bruce stumble into the room in just his sweatpants. The billionaire sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Damian.”

‘Damian’ glares at Bruce, and Barry recognizes that glare, but he can’t tell from where until the boy opens his mouth and says “You forgot I was coming this weekend.”

Bruce makes a placating gesture, and the kid scoffs – he _scoffs_.

“Don’t deny it, Father, you forget every weekend.”

Barry glances between the boy and Bruce and notices an alarming amount of similarities, so of course, he opens his mouth and inserts his foot with a ridiculous cry of “Wait, you have kids?”

Damian puts the knife away and curls up defensively.

“Oh, shit, kid, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Damian just glares at him so he glances at Bruce for help, but Batdad just rubs his neck and looks at the floor.

Damian scoffs again. “Father has eight children, of whom I am the youngest, and the only biological.” After a moment, he adds “I live with my eldest brother in Blüdhaven, but he insists I spend every other weekend here. I had missions that kept me these past months, that is why you haven’t seen me before, Allen.”

Barry’s brain skipped at his last name and then jumped back to ‘missions’. “Holy crap, you’re Robin! That’s so awesome! And that makes your brother….”

Damian sniffed. “I live with Nightwing. As Father has given you his identity, it shouldn’t be hard for you to figure out who he is.” The kid sighs and takes out a phone, slipping out of Barry’s bed. “I shall call him and let him know to pick me up, as you are obviously busy.”

“Damian,” Bruce says, but the kid’s already dialing.

Barry shrugs. “I can always bunk with Vic for the night. It’s not like he uses his bed anyway, and I’ve crashed in his room before when we stay up too late playing video games or whatever.”

Damian pauses and glances at him. “Are you certain?” His thumb hovers over the call button.

“Yeah!” Barry grins. “You know, I always wished I had an older brother, you’ll have to tell me what that’s like in the morning.”

Damian freezes and glares at him. “You will not tell Grayson that, I don’t need another competitor.”

Bruce sighs. “Damian, your brothers and sisters aren’t competitors for Dick’s affection. Even if they were, we all know he’d choose you every time.”

Damian scowls at his father, but puts away his phone and nods gratefully to Barry.

The speedster grins and zooms around the room, grabbing what he needs before jetting off to Vic’s room. He catches the tail end of Bruce’s awkward “Well, goodnight, son” right as he turns the corner, and he winces. Damn. No wonder the kid doesn’t live here.

Morning finds Barry devouring pancakes like no tomorrow, as Damian watches with curious fascination.

“How does your metabolism cope with the limitations of your organ size?” the kid asks, and Barry chokes.

Alfred smirks. “Master Damian is wondering how your stomach can possibly be large enough to fit all that food.”

Barry swallows and grins. “I don’t know. I’ve never questioned it.”

Damian leans over the table and steeples his fingers, looking exactly like a miniature Bruce. “Have you ever felt full before you felt satisfied?”

Barry shrugs. “Not that I remember.”

“Interesting….”

Arthur walks in, then, guzzling a beer, nods to Barry, then takes a second glance at Damian. “Bruce get shrunk?”

Damian scowls. “You are most imperceptive for an individual who supposedly possesses superior vision. My father has different coloured eyes and a much paler skin tone.”

Arthur stares. “Bruce has a kid?”

Damian scoffs and mutters “Most imperceptive” as he returns his gaze to his food.

“Eight kids, apparently,” Barry answers.

“Indeed,” Alfred says. “Master Dick is the eldest, then Master Jason, Miss Cassandra, Mix Harper, Master Tim, Master Cullen, Master Duke, and finally, Master Damian.”

Arthur peers at the boy suspiciously. “Why haven’t I seen you before?”

“Obviously, because I don’t live here,” Damian snaps.

Arthur shrugs, says “huh”, and asks what’s for breakfast.

Damian scoffs. “Is he merely stupid, or what?”

“Master Damian!” Alfred admonishes.

Damian sneers and returns to eating his breakfast. After a moment, he looks up at Barry. “I hope Father doesn’t adopt you.”

“Thanks,” Barry says, genuine. “I have my own dad.”

A few hours later, they’re all working on the manor – Hall of Justice, sorry – when a sleek car pulls up and out climbs two very attractive young men, one even more built than Arthur, and one lean and lithe, with a smile to outshine the sun. Barry thinks he might be in love.

“Titus!” Damian calls, and a huge dog bounds out of the car.

Sunshine laughs and Muscles rolls his eyes before their posture changes, and they walk up to Bruce.

“You know,” Sunshine says, deceptively casually. “I set up this custody arrangement because I thought you’d want it.”

Bruce ignores him and turns to Muscles. “What are you doing here, Jason?”

Nevermind, Barry is so off that train. These are clearly some of Bruce’s other kids, and he does not want to get involved with that at all. He turns and focuses all his attention on Damian playing fetch with his monster dog. That lasts about three seconds before he turns back around to see Bruce getting punched in the face. He winces, then remembers what Damian said last night. Okay, maybe Bruce deserved that. He does have a penchant for being an asshole.

“Huh, penchant, that’s a funny word. Penchant, penchant, penchant.”

Everyone within hearing range stares at Barry like he’s grown a second head.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Who are you?” Jason demands. He turns to Bruce. “This the replacement for the Replacement’s replacement or something like that?”

Damian stiffens and glances at Barry as if just considering something.

“Barry,” Bruce says loudly, “is the Flash. Speedster from Central City, part of the team I built to take on the Steppenwolf.”

“Because you didn’t already have a team before,” Sunshine says caustically.

“Dick,” Bruce sighs, and Barry flinches.

Damian huffs and rolls his eyes. “It’s his _name_ ,” he whispers, ridiculously sarcastic. “He _insists_.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you wanted to keep us safe or some crap, or is this not exactly what you trained us for?”

Bruce sets his jaw. “Where’s Tim? I could use his help on this project.”

Jason stares at Bruce until it gets awkward. “Use,” he echoes flatly, then he turns around and walks back to the car.

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose. “Tim is visiting Cass in Hong Kong, and he’s actually taking care of himself for once, so he’s staying there until he decides to come home.”

Bruce frowns. “What about Barbara?”

“No,” Dick snaps. “You have a cyborg on your team, Bruce, you don’t need Tim or Babs, just….” He takes a deep breath. “We’re not your toy soldiers.” He walks halfway to the car, then turns to call for Damian.

The kid glances around at his dad and the others, and then his gaze settles on Barry. “Someone needs to protect the speedster from Father’s foolishness,” he says. “I will stay in contact.”

Dick glances at Barry, then nods and drives away, looking some thirty-thousand percent done with life.

Barry throws an arm around Damian’s shoulders, then removes it when the boy goes stiff. “You don’t have to stay just for little old me.”

Damian scoffs, calls Titus, and starts walking back to the Lakehouse. “I should introduce you to Goliath, but Father would never allow him on his property. Not anymore.”

That perks Barry’s interest and he glances around to make sure there’s nothing he could be doing at the moment, then jogs after the mini-ninja. “Well, then, the easy solution would be to get off his property.”

Damian smirks.


	2. Jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit exposition-y, but bear with me, Damian's POV is just too good to pass up

Goliath turns out to be a pretty awesome, pretty giant dragon bat. Damian asks Barry if he wants to ride him, but he just laughs and says he's good on the ground, but how about a race?

They don’t make it back to the Lakehouse until just barely before sunset, and Barry takes a quick detour to eat half the pantry. He's just contemplating the forbidden cookie jar when Damian shouts from his room, and he rushes over in the space of a microsecond.

“What are you doing in my room, Todd?!” Damian screams at Jason.

Jason snorts. “It’s not your room, brat.” He nods to Barry. “It’s not his either. Where’s your toothbrush?”

Damian opens his mouth to reply, but Jason cuts him off.

“Not you. Him. The big bad bat isn’t going to get another little black haired, blue eyed kid killed. Not while I’m around.”

“I don’t have blue eyes,” Barry blurts, then his brain manages to backtrack. “Wait, what?”

Jason jabs his thumb in his sternum. “Jason Todd. Dead. Got better. Toothbrush.”

Barry points to the en-suite.

“I’ve got a place in Gotham or you can stay at Dick’s with the kid.”

“I’m twenty-five,” Barry says.

“Cool.” Jason puts the toothbrush in the side pocket of a duffel bag. “Which one?”

Barry blinks and fidgets.

“He’s like Drake,” Damian snaps as Jason starts looking more and more impatient.

“Ah, my place then.” Jason snorts. “Dickie wouldn’t know the hell to do with you. Let’s go.”

“You can’t just make decisions for people!” Barry yells, realizing his volume a little late.

“What the devil is going on?” Alfred asks, striding quickly into the middle of the room. “Master Jason?”

Immediately, Jason seems to… soften.

Barry glances back and forth between the butler and the young man, trying to figure them out.

Damian grabs him by the wrist and tugs once before letting go. “Come, Pennyworth requires privacy if he is to talk any amount of sense into Todd’s small head.”

Barry nods and follows him back to the kitchen. “Does he even know how much it would cost to feed me? Can he even afford that?”

“Of course, he can.” Damian waves a hand in the air. “Todd is a career criminal, after all.”

Barry pulls up short. “A what?”

“A drug lord, a mercenary, and a murderer. I do admire his dedication.” Damian looks up at the speedster, frowning in an almost adorable way. “Do you know how to make hot chocolate?”

Barry nods, swallowing. “Yeah, I can make it the way my mom used to. Do you have cinnamon?”

Damian climbs up to stand on the counter and retrieve the spice from the cabinets, while Barry pulls out a pot and the refrigerated ingredients. “Red Hood controls the entire Gotham drug trade. He’s made remarkable improvements in drug-related crime. And he makes sure it’s no longer sold to minors, nor near hospitals or schools. In exchange, he takes a small cut of forty-percent. Previously, the traffickers were only ever left thirty-percent or less of their profits. It’s good all around, though of course, Father does not see it that way.”

“And the murder part?” Barry asks, stirring slowly. “Any vanilla?”

Damian shrugs. “He hunts down and kills pedophiles, rapists, and other murderers. He protects sex workers, children, women, and the poor and destitute of Gotham. Thieves, he gives multiple chances before they make their way onto his list.”

Barry slowly pours the hot chocolate into two mugs before taking a seat at the counter. “So… he’s like Robin Hood?”

Damian snorts. “Perhaps. If Sir Robin of Loxley had been effective by any stretch of the imagination.”

Barry stares.

“He died,” Damian points out. “Or, more accurately, was killed.” He curses under his breath in a language Barry doesn’t recognize. “Disney has utterly ruined mythology. Robin Hood, Hercules, Tales of the Brothers Grimm,” he scoffs, “the original myths are much more interesting.”

Barry nods slowly. “What did he mean he died and got better?”

Damian takes a sip of his hot chocolate and makes a noise of approval, before turning back to the moment at hand. “Seven years ago, Todd was trapped in Ethiopia by that reprehensible clown known as the Joker. He beat him severely with a crowbar, to the point where he most likely would not have survived long, even had there been no bomb. A year after that, my mother found him wandering Gotham, a mindless, instinctual creature, having dug his way out of his own grave. She removed him to my grandfather’s compound and submerged him in the Lazarus Pit, which mystical waters returned some semblance of his soul to his body.” He tapped his fingers on the rim of the mug, and Barry kept silent. “I do not know what she said to him, but he spent the next four years training around the world, before returning to Gotham, hellbent on taking his revenge on my father.”

“For letting him die.” Barry nods. “That makes sense. Is still kind of….” He shakes his hand next to his ear.

“He is… mostly stable,” Damian concedes. “But, no, he did not want revenge for his death, that much he made clear. Todd desired revenge for being replaced so soon afterwards, he desired revenge for our brother, Timothy Drake, whom Father had replaced him with and put in danger just as he had Todd, and he desired revenge for not being avenged.” Damian sighs. “He is a good man. I do not understand how Father cannot see that.”

Barry nods, brain skipping through the words. “You said ‘Drake’s’ like me? And whataboutyourotherbrother? The one you live with?”

“Yes,” Damian says. “Drake is autistic. He hid it from us for a time, but he no longer feels the need. He is a much more subdued person than yourself, but the similarities are plain.”

Barry jumps, winces. “I’m really that obvious? I’m trying to get better at passing. Like, as a regular human, one without powers, and a neurotypical one.”

Damian shrugs. “Not so obvious if you don’t already know what to look for. I observed Drake closely for a long period of time when I first took the Robin mantle, and before.” He winces. “Richard is impossible to describe. During one of our more unique missions, it was revealed the very embodiment of the multiverse themself favors him greatly. He is unfailingly kind and ridiculously optimistic, with a temper as large as his heart. Unfortunately, he is also a fool. A most loveable fool, but a fool nonetheless.”

“Who are we talking about?”

The two look up to see Jason and Alfred had made their way to the kitchen, Titus trailing behind them.

Damian scoffs. “Who else?”

Jason snorts in agreement, then crosses his arms and moves to stand directly in front of Barry. “B’s no good. I can’t make you stay or leave, but it’s best in the long run if you don’t stick around him too long.”

Barry tightens his grip around his mug. “All my friends are here,” he whispers.

Jason shrugs. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I didn’t say-" Barry catches his lip between his teeth and chews. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to make a decision now, Mister Allen,” Alfred says. “However…, I do agree with Master Jason.”

Well, if that wasn’t the ringingest endorsement you could get….

“I don’t know Dick or you,” Barry says, pointing at Jason. “But I know Damian, so if Dick’s okay with me crashing at his place and he can afford to feed me, I’d like to go there. If he really is so bad with people li – with autistics, then maybe by then, I’ll know you better.”

Jason nods and makes a grabby motion. “Give me your phone, so I can put mine and Timmy’s numbers in there. If you’re feeling a meltdown train approaching or you’re just too low on spoons to deal with Mister Happy Feet, you can text or call either of us for an evac.”

“Thanks,” Barry mumbles.

“I’ll load the vehicle.” Alfred gracefully turns and walks away.

Damian leans close to Barry as Jason hands back his phone and leaves to help Alfred. “He’s not so bad, just a bit infantilizing. Drake explained to him that the brain gets overloaded easily, sometimes, and he tries to be proactive in keeping that from happening. Unfortunately, he only knows how to do things in extremes.”

Barry shrugs. “It’ll be nice having someone looking after me for once, but I don’t really need it.”

Damian’s nose wrinkles in distaste. “You will not say such things in front of Richard. He will take it upon himself to mother you even further, and it will cut out valuable patrol time.”

“Okay,” Barry agrees. “He’ll still have time for you though.”

Damian snorts and clears the dishes. “I do not require his affection.”

Barry barely manages to smother his laugh. “But it sure is nice to have, right?”

Damian stares down at his hands. “Yes. Yes, it is, indeed, Allen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best hot chocolate ever?
> 
> Either white chocolate sauce, or Midnight Moo brand dark chocolate sauce  
> Milk  
> Vanilla (syrup or extract, up to you)  
> Cinnamon  
> Whip Cream (optional)
> 
> Stir chocolate sauce, milk, and vanilla in a pot over medium heat until it's at your preferred taste and temperature  
> (I spot everything, so I don't have exact times or measurements)  
> Add cinnamon, and stir  
> Add whip cream if desired, and dust cinnamon over the top


	3. Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Barry seems a little extra autistic at first, it's because he's anxious. I based all of this on how I think in similar situations.

By the time they pull up to the Bludhaven apartment, Barry has decided on a script to introduce himself to Dick.

Which is good.

He's been mumbling to himself the entire car ride, and he's pretty sure Jason found it endearing at first but is now sick of him.

Luckily, Damian has headphones, otherwise that would be awkward.

Dick answers the door on the first ring and grins as he takes Barry's bag. "You must be Barry."

Barry opens and closes his mouth like a fish, because he wasn't supposed to say that, he was supposed to say "Hi, I'm Dick" so Barry could say "Hi, Dick, I'm Barry, I'm autistic like your brother, but everybody's different, so is it alright if I just let you know if I need anything?" and now that script is useless and he doesn't have a backup.

Jason elbows him in the back and he jumps then runs into the living room at just under Mach 1 like a chicken.

Dick seems shocked to see him suddenly in front of him, and he rushes to think of something to say to break the awkwardness that's stretching on for minutes.

"HiDickI'mBarryI'mautisticlikeyourbrotherbuteverybody'sdifferentsoisitalrightifIjustletyouknowifIneedanything?"

Everything's moving a lot faster now, and Barry flushes, realizing it had only been a few seconds but he'd slipped into relative time. He drops his gaze to the floor. The floor is nice. The floor doesn't have any social cues for him to misread.

Dick laughs, and he sounds embarrassed, too. Why would Dick be embarrassed? "Yeah, okay, that sounds good. Dami, did you have a sleeping arrangement in mind?"

Damian pulls off his headphones. "What?"

Dick laughs again. Why does he laugh so much? "Alright, Barry, you've got three options. One of our beds, a sleeping bag, or the couch."

"Couch," Barry says immediately, thinking of his place back in Central, then turns around to actually look at Dick's couch. "Yeah, couch. Is that okay?"

"Perfect," Dick says, beaming, and sets Barry's duffle on the coffee table. "Set up however you want, I'm gonna go order pizza. What do you want?"

Barry takes a minute to answer because he's wondering what Dick would've said if he'd chosen something else, and scripting what he'll say if he changes his mind, even though he knows he won't. "What? Sorry, what?"

"Do you want pizza?"

Barry's ears catch up then and he nods.

"Yeah, thanks, whatever's fine." He vaguely remembers someone telling him 'whatever' is rude, but in this context, it's okay, he thinks.

Dick smiles and leaves.

Damian flops down on the couch and nudges Barry with his foot. "Sit down. You're nervous and it shows. Apparently, sitting down helps."

Barry sits. "Apparently?"

Damian sniffs. "I was required to go to some camp last year, a mix of occupational therapy and improvisational theater. It was geared toward autistic teens, but Drake suggested I would benefit from it, and Richard listened."

Barry frowns, because he has no idea why Damian would need something like that.

"I was raised by assassins," Damian says. "My so-called social skills have improved with immersion, but apparently, I am still found lacking."

"Oh. Are you any good at improv?"

Damian gives him a strange look. "I do not perform on command."

"But, Dami, that's the whole point." Dick rounds the couch and ruffles his brother's hair before flopping down next to him.  
Damian swats his hand away and smooths over his hair.

"I think your social skills are okay," Barry says, after having time to think about it.

"You're probably not the best judge of that," Dick says, then immediately pales. "I mean - shit - I'm sorry - I didn't mean -"

Barry waves a hand. "Don't worry about it, you're right."

"That doesn't give me the right to say it. I'm really sorry, Barry. I mean - Just - Shit, I'm sorry - I'm really -" Dick cuts off with a cry of pain as Damian stomps on his foot.

"You are an embarrassment to me, Richard."  
Barry winces, even he knows that's rude, but it does get Dick to stop.

"Sorry," Dick mouths over Damian's head one last time.

"It's okay," Barry says back, and Damian jostles them both with his knees.

"Did Jason leave?" Barry asks.

"Yeah, he had some stuff to do," Dick says.

"Oh." That's fine, Barry thinks. Damian's still here, so it's not like he's stranded. Is that inappropriate? Damian's a kid, he's an adult. That's inappropriate, isn't it? As he mentally squirms, he notices a police officer's uniform In the closet and glances at Dick. Damn, if it's inappropriate, is he going to be arrested? Probably not if Dick knows what autistics are like.

Damian sighs and shifts so he's facing Barry.

"Here," he says. "Richard is an inadequate opponent when it comes to this game. Let us see how you fare."

Barry looks down to see Damian's phone between them, touch-controls on the top and bottom. "Wait is this the lightcycle game from Tron?" He tries to keep the excitement out of his voice, for Dick's benefit.

Dick looks up, though. "I have both movies, do you two want to watch them while we eat?"

"Yes," Damian deadpans as the doorbell rings, "Allen would love to watch Tron and Tron: Legacy while we consume cheese and vegetable loaded flatbread falsely assumed to originate in Italy. He greatly enjoyed the films as a child and does so still." He intentionally crashes his lightcycle and gets up to answer the door, shoving Dick's uniform further into the closet as he passes it.

Out of sight, out of mind, Barry thinks.

"I did get some meat for you," Dick says, "but Damian's a vegetarian, and I've become one by association."

"Oh," Barry says. "The pizza. Thanks."

"Not a problem." Dick stands and moves toward the DVD case. "So, Tron?"

Barry nods. "Lay that Jeff Bridges on me." As soon as it leaves his mouth, he's regretting it, but Dick is laughing.

"I like you," he says.

Barry smiles in relief and relaxes. Dick and Damian like him. This won't be terrible.

He amends that statement when Damian waddles into the living room with a stack of pizzas taller than his head. This is going to be awesome.

"I've got it," Damian snaps before either of the adults can offer help. He sets the boxes near Barry's duffle and opens them one at a time making various noises of displeasure until he finds his vegetarian pie at the bottom of the pile. "Play the movie, Richard," he orders, "then fetch us our drinks."

Dick laughs and hands Barry the remote. "Alright, alright, you little dictator. Subtitles are this button if you want. I've got water, milk, chocolate milk, koolaid, and sprite," he calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen.

"Sprite!" Barry cheers.

Damian rolls his eyes. "Chocolate milk, for me, Richard!" He turns to Barry. "Let me guess. Bubbles."

"Bubbles," Barry agrees, setting the subtitles on.

Dick comes back in a minute and gestures to the remaining pizzas. "Those are all for you, don't worry about plates."

Barry's eyes go wide and he glances at the stack, then back at Dick, who's offering him a glass. "I think I love you."

Dick laughs before he can be embarrassed. "I get that a lot."

Barry settles into the couch with a happy wiggle and gets to work on demolishing the pizzas. After the first movie is over, he cleans the living room at superspeed, even rushing outside to deposit the boxes in the recycle.

Dick looks slightly worried when he returns. "Did anyone see you?"

Right, people. Secret identities. Barry shakes his head. "Sorry, won't do it again."

"Just be careful, that's all," Dick says as he plays the next movie.

Barry gets a washcloth from the kitchen and wipes down the coffee table to atone, then hovers at the side of the couch before deciding to sit down.

"This one's my favorite." Dick grins. "Do you think it'd be possible to make one of the lightcycles from this one?"

Barry thinks hard and then he and Dick get into a scientific discussion that pauses only for the best parts of the movie and continues long after Damian announces he's going to bed.

Eventually, Barry gets up to make his bed and they both retire for the night. "End of line, Dick," Barry says sleepily, then immediately wakes up and opens his mouth to correct himself.

"Goodnight, Barry," Dick says, smiling, before he can, and he turns off the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, this isn't going to be Dick/Barry, but they are going to be good friends.
> 
> Also, that camp really does exist but I can't for the life of me remember what it's called.


End file.
